


Broken Machine

by Lullaby (Ghost__Writer)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Demons, Eggpire, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, I swear I'll add more tags, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Not much going on in the first chapters tbh, Prison, Symbolism, Taunting, Tension, Unreliable Narrator, Weapons, Weapons that are sentient, Write As I Go, this is just
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29255793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost__Writer/pseuds/Lullaby
Summary: “Not for the same reasons.”“All for the same reasons. You just refuse to see them.”----Dream's imprisoned, and Tommy can't help but feel nothing got better. But, a trip to the egg & a lovely realization gave Tommy a way to fix his problems.(Title taken from "Broken Machine" by Nothing but Thieves)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	Broken Machine

**Author's Note:**

> this is entirely self-indulgent and made on impulse & probably terrible, be warned.
> 
> TWs: Reference's Tommy's time in exile which means Emotional Abuse is referenced.

Tommy was standing before a lava wall, one constructed by the creeper hybrid next to him, as he waited for the warmth to fall away. It was awkward, not much to speak about. Tommy had learned to grow quiet, Sam wasn’t in a talking mood when he was the Warden and it showed by lack of response. As the wall descended, Tommy was able to spot the man he was visiting.  _ God _ , some would claim this man was,  _ Owner _ , others would say. Tommy, though, he had no such claims to this man. He did not hold this man in high regard, no longer did he see the man with respect, but he saw him as a stain. A chapter of which he’ll never be able to erase from his life. 

This man’s name? Dream. The irony being he was an absolute  _ nightmare _ to deal with. Tommy followed the instructions Sam gave, stepping onto the path with practiced ease and fluidity he had learned to have. You didn’t survive this server by being clumsy, a lesson he learned hard. The path moving forward as he took step, after step, after step. Soon enough, he was there and standing in front of the netherite gate holding Dream back from running and jumping onto the path, which was retracting itself. 

The silence was overbearing as the lava lowered slowly, forming the wall it once was. Tommy stared back at Sam, giving a slight wave despite the bitter voice in his saying it wasn’t worth it while Sam was the warden. Once the lava fully dropped, and the netherite gate went down, Tommy turned his icy gaze to Dream. The man was standing, his smile mask cracked on the right side, the crack cutting through an eye. Tommy gave a bitter smile, stepping forward. His steps sounded unbearably loud in the quiet, as he faced down the man who broke him down to nothing but ash in the wind,

“How are you doing in prison, Dream?” Tommy asked. It was a simple question, as Tommy took his eyes off the man in green to study his dull cell. The obsidian was beautiful and glossy, reflecting them like mirrors (They looked  _ so _ similar, yet different in every way.), yet Tommy could see the scratches made onto the surface of the wall behind Dream. Tally marks counting the days. Pathetic. Tommy flicked his gaze from the walls to the Clock, untouched and ticking,

“I’m doing well.” Came the other’s response. It was simple, and gave off no emotion of which the masked man was feeling. Tommy gave a smirk,

“Are you counting the days?” His voice was littered with amusement. Tommy took steps forward, making the other step out of the way to avoid him, as he stared at the tally marks with a sudden interest. Did he care? No, but he had wanted to belittle the other. Was this petty? Yes, but Tommy believes he deserved a right to be petty to his abuser. After all, it was out of the kindness of the teenager's heart that he didn’t kill the man when he had the chance,

“It gives me something to do.” His reply was so boring. Dull, and nothing like what Tommy gave him when Dream asked. No wild stories, or lies that were obviously plastic. No, none of that. Just simple boring and dull answers that Tommy would pity Dream for, if he could feel any pity left towards the other,

“That sounds boring.” Because it did, and Tommy wasn’t going to hide that fact. He left the spot from where he was staring at the tally marks. His eyes brushing over to the chest and deciding that would be his next destination. Dream was watching him carefully, but seemingly made no effort to stop him.  _ Good, _ Tommy thought,  _ let him be powerless. _

The creaking of the chest cut through the silence like shears cutting wool as Tommy opened it, another question on his tongue as he rummaged through the books and quills,

“Do you do anything in here? Other than play with your clock and draw on the walls.” He grabbed a book that had been signed. It looked boring, and Tommy honestly didn’t wanna open it because the name was horrendous. He could barely read the handwriting, as if Dream’s hand was shaking as he wrote the title. Tommy couldn’t make himself feel any empathy or sympathy. Tommy just simply took the book from the chest,

“Well, obviously I write- or try to write. Uh, I stare at the walls. The obsidian is reflective, so there’s that-”

“Do you talk to yourself?” The teen interrupted. The man in a mask stared at Tommy, who stared back unwaveringly. They were silent for a few moments, looking at each other. Tommy gave a slight smirk, he  _ knew _ Dream wanted to reprimand him for interrupting. The stare off held for a few moments, before Dream looked away (slightly uncomfortable, and Tommy wasn’t hesitant to say he took a bit of glee in that.),

“Sometimes. But it’s not like you don’t relate.” Dream eventually said. Tommy wanted to punch the other for his words, he had  _ no right _ to bring up Tommy’s own isolation in that kind of way. Tommy  _ did _ relate, because Dream kept him in exile away from people and kept  _ interfering _ with visits from others. Dream, on the other hand, was rarely visited because of other’s choosing to keep their distance.  _ Dream _ caused his own downfall, and had no right to even  _ mention _ Tommy being able to relate as if Tommy would give him  _ sympathy _ . 

Instead of retaliating with physical violence, Tommy just huffed, looking at the masked man with narrowing eyes,

“Not for the same reasons.”

“All for the same reasons. You just refuse to see them.” After that, things were quiet again. Tommy was still holding the book, he never really read it. The teenager set the book down, instead calling for Sam to bring him out of the cell now. He looked back at Dream, who was staring at him with a tilt in his head. Tommy left the cell, and by the time he was out of the prison, a realization had hit him. 

Dream was  _ powerless _ .. And well, Tommy knew how to be a fucking nightmare when he wanted to be.

**Author's Note:**

> ohhboy.  
> This is so bad and written on impulse but yes!   
> Anyways, the chapter will be updated every Saturday/Sunday! I have chapter two planned already, so I'll give a sneakpeak:  
> "It was a brilliant idea, Tommy reasoned as he grabbed Nightmare (the axe was cursed, Tommy knew that, a demon trapped inside. Tommy could hear it inside every time he touched the damn thing.) and set off for the crimson fucker. "


End file.
